


Fixation

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, Mild Smut, Peterick, a little fluff, idk if you consider that smut?, pete's a creep, they jack off together kinda?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2835791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete has this strange obsession..</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fixation

**Author's Note:**

> A few disclaimers..  
> I wrote this in like three days so it's bound to have numerous errors.  
> Plus, this is the first smut-ish thing I've ever posted. If that's not your thing, sorry. There's a bit of fluff too, though.
> 
> I've never written Peterick before ((mainly because I prefer Petekey but whatever)) so if you guys like it, let me know :)

Pete has this strange obsession.

Well, the word _obsession_ seems a little too harsh. Maybe _fixation_ is the right word? It's not like he has a _constant_   compulsion to tickle Patrick...

Except he kinda does.

There's just something about the way that Patrick squirms and giggles that Pete can't help but love. Patrick's aggravated retorts (which are almost always incomprehensible thanks to his laughter) always bring about a smile to Pete's face. He loves seeing Patrick so helpless and whiny.

To be completely honest, Pete is one step away from being twisted.

It's something about the feeling of control. The authority. The dominance. It makes Pete feel so powerful. It's like he has the capability to have Patrick at his very command..

On second thought, Pete is one step _past_ twisted.

Even worse, his obsession- fixation -seems to become a bigger issue everyday. A few weeks ago, he only tickled Patrick for shits and giggles. But then it started feeling like more than that. It feels like it's about Pete proving himself. It's about feeling the thrill of being the reason Patrick's squealing. It's about having his best friend at his own mercy.

What a fucking creep.

Pete sighed and rolled his eyes. Emotions are stupid. And hard to explain. And also, stupid.

He stood up from the tour van's couch and brushed the chip-crumbs off of his pants after hearing the other guys outside.

"I'm so damn exhausted. As soon as I'm through that door, I'm out for the night, fuckers." Pete could hear Joe say with slurred speech and a lazy tone.

"Yeah, I'm still pretty buzzed from that show, though. So great. I guess I'll be up for a little while. Andy, you still up to driving tonight?" Patrick asked, his voice becoming clearer as they approached the van.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm cool." The door opened.

"Night, Joe." Andy said as they entered the tour van. Joe stumbled to his bunk and mumbled a goodnight to the guys. Andy must've went straight to the driver's seat; Pete didn't see him.

"Hey, Petey." Patrick smiled and plopped down onto a bean bag. "The fans missed you out there. I signed your name on a few of the autographs; I don't think anyone noticed."

Pete laughed.

"That's funny. I would've been out there, I just don't feel that great." he faked a frown. He was so obviously lying, and Patrick probably noticed. But it's not Pete's fault that he can't be anywhere near Patrick without feeling scarily inclined to tickle the fuck out of him. Actually, that _is_ his fault..

"Uh-huh...you alright?" Patrick raised one eyebrow.

"A-okay." Pete nodded awkwardly. He tried not to make eye-contact with Patrick, scared that he'd somehow spill his secrets through his eyes. Patrick surely knew something was up, but he's too polite to say anything.

"Want to play War?" Patrick suggested, holding up a pack of cards.

"Why not? Beating you always does warm my soul." Pete said snidely, sticking his tongue out at Patrick.

"Fuck you, Peter." Patrick said with a cheeky smile. He dealt the cards and hummed quietly. And because Pete is the fucking creep that he is, he felt such a strong urge to straight up pounce onto Patrick, that he did. He jumped at Patrick, fingers tickling at his throat.

"PETE WHA-" Patrick yelped before getting pinned under Pete's weight. Pete straddled Patrick's waist and tickled his sides and underarms.

"Pete, I- what the hell -Pete, stop." Patrick was struggling to speak between giggles.

Pete didn't stop.

Patrick muttered a string of words through his laughter; 80% of the words were "Pete."

Hearing his name come from Patrick like that- all out of breath -really got to Pete. He moaned, loud and throaty.

Pete immediately froze, and his eyes widened. He looked down at Patrick, and his eyes were even wider.

"Pete, what the literal fuck is.." Patrick trailed off. He was staring right at Pete's hard-on. Pete's hard-on that he hadn't even realized he had. Pete's hard-on that was pressed right against Patrick's stomach.

Neither of them said anything for a few seconds. Pete finally found his voice and said:

"Uhh.."

"Are you..? What's-" Patrick looked so confused.

"I...I'm just gonna..I'm sorry. I just.." Pete mumbled, horrified. He stood up started to walk away and to the beds.

"Pete, wait." Patrick said in a soft tone from the living room.

"No, I-I need to go to bed." Pete nodded to himself and climbed into his bed bunk, face palming for the rest of eternity.

 

 

* * *

 

 

After about five minutes, Pete could hear Patrick climb into his own bed.

Pete was still bafflingly hard, but he couldn't do anything about it, with Patrick just a few feet away. Patrick would hear him and it would make everything so much worse. Hearing your best friend jerk off- especially knowing that they're thinking of you while they do it -might qualify for at least a little weird.

At least that's what Pete had thought.

Until he heard the sounds of skin on skin (followed by a mewl?) coming from Patrick's bunk.

Pete's eyes went wide. His mouth went dry. The world didn't come to a halt; the world spun so much more rapidly, that Pete worried that he might get flung off into Outer Space.

He could hardly hear Patrick's quiet moans over his own mind's overwhelmed buzzing. Pete wasn't sure if Patrick knew he could hear him, but one things for sure: Patrick's jacking-off noises really weren't helping Pete's boner go away. Pete slowly lowered a hand and groped himself through his jeans, which elicited a muffled groan. He expected to hear Patrick pause at the realization that Pete was a) awake, b) hearing him masturbate and c) also touching himself.

But no pause came.

Patrick had already known.

Patrick had _planned_ on it.

It made total sense. Pete had only been in his bunk for a maximum of five minutes, and Patrick knows good and well that it takes Pete at least an hour of tossing and turning, even on his tiredest nights, to go to sleep. So obviously, this situation was no accident. Which means Pete can take full advantage of it.

Maybe this was Patrick's way of telling Pete that he thinks they should fuck. Or maybe it's just that he likes Pete. Or...oh, God...

That he _liked_ being tickled.

Of course, this was just Pete's horny little mind running wild. Patrick didn't like getting tickled. Duh...

Probably.

Pete was fumbling with his jeans now, trying desperately to get his pants open and a hand on his dick. After the button popped loose and the zipper slid down, he shoved his jeans down to his ankles, along with his boxers. Immediately, he wrapped his hand around his cock. Pete couldn't remember the last time he was this turned on. It was probably sometime during his adolescence, when even a sandwich could make him horny.

The head of his cock was leaking pre-come, which he spread across his shaft with his thumb. He and Patrick grunted in unison, just two bunk curtains away from each other. Pete began moving his hand up and down, setting a pace. He started slow, but his hand moved faster and faster as the seconds passed. It felt _so_ good.

Pete could hear the wet slapping sounds coming from Patrick's bunk. He could hear the bed creaking. He could hear Patrick's exasperated breaths and groans as his hand sped up.

Pete's hand did the same.

Patrick whimpered. Fucking whimpered. He was close.

Pete twisted his wrist on the upstroke and had to bite his pillow to keep from being too loud. He knew that neither of them were gonna last long.

"..Pete.." Patrick whisper-moaned and came, a bit loudly. Pete could hear his bed creaking and his breath hitching. He kept whimpering and whining softly.

Patrick's voice went straight to his dick. Pete remembered the sounds Patrick made when he was being tickled. He remembered the way Patrick squirmed and squealed. He remembered how soft Patrick's skin had been beneath his fingertips, and how he could feel the vibrations of Patrick's laughter. He thought of Patrick's face, eyes closed and smile wide. He remembered all these things, all while picking up the speed of his hand on his cock. Patrick's moans were still ringing in Pete's ears.

_"Fuck."_

Pete spilled onto his hand and stomach.

 

* * *

 

 It had been two weeks and neither of them had addressed what happened that night, so Pete just assumed they were pretending it didn't happen.

Hell, Pete wouldn't be surprised if Patrick really did believe it didn't happen. He's always having these super-realistic dreams; maybe he filed 'synchronized jack off session with the bassist of my band who just so happens to be my best friend' under that category of weird realistic dreams. Maybe he'd dreamt it before.

But Pete was still doubtful. There was no way that Patrick didn't know that it happened. He was just avoiding it. Patrick wanted to forget about it.

Pete didn't want to forget about it.

He was more obsessed now than ever. He had just as strong an urge to tickle him as he had before. Only now, he had an even stronger urge to suck his dick.

Pete was beginning to think that he loved Patrick. He's always loved Patrick, but this was different. This wasn't friendly bro-love. This was the I'm-literally-obsessed-with-everything-you-do kinda love. And they were treating it like a game. 

And this little 'game' they were playing, was not over. Not for Pete; not for Patrick.

 

* * *

 

 

That night's show was going amazing. It was a nice venue, there was a huge crowd, and no one was missing a note. It was perfect.

Pete was all over Patrick the entire time. He would lean against him. He would bury his face in Patrick's neck. He would whisper against his skin.

The fans were going ape shit; screeching, yanking on their hair, one girl was crying. Whether they were freaking out because a) Pete was all but harassing Patrick on stage or b) they were at a fucking Fall Out Boy concert, Pete was happy with himself. (Nothing was a better ego boost than having hundreds of fans flip their shit because of you.)

Pete hadn't really been paying attention to Patrick's reaction, so he looked over. Patrick didn't look uncomfortable, per se, but he didn't look into it. It was almost as if he was ignoring Pete and his little 'shenanigans.'

Pete was never one to take being ignored lightly.

The whole reason he was doing this was to get the attention that he had been deprived of for two weeks. He wasn't about to let Patrick ignore him again.

Pete started kissing Patrick's sweat-covered neck. He made obscene noises and grinned. He kissed his way up to Patrick's cheek, where he planted a big one. Patrick kinda smiled at that. It was really cute. But Pete wanted more. Pete the big fucking idiot wasn't satisfied.

He knew he was getting a reaction out of Patrick this time.

He tickled Patrick. On stage. Pete didn't even pay attention to the fans' reactions. He didn't care. He wanted to see Patrick's reaction.

And see it, he did.

Patrick's face turned red and a huge smile broke out across his face; you could tell he was angry despite the smile though. Patrick turned and fucking ran to the other side of the stage. The fans let out a disappointed sound and Pete pouted playfully, just for show. He didn't want the crowd to see that he was actually pretty embarrassed. Pete looked over at Patrick nervously.

He could tell that Patrick was pissed. What else should he have been expecting?

To state the obvious, the show no longer maintained its 'perfect' status. It was actually kinda shitty now. Patrick missed almost every big note and his voice was constantly wavering. Pete's fingers kept slipping. Andy and Joe were killing it, but it was hard to acknowledge that with Pete and Patrick playing like fucking idiots that've never played a show before in their lives.

They played their last song and the crowd went nuts. They didn't seem to care that the show sounded like shit. They were just pumped to be there.

The show was over and the guys met with a few fans, signed a few shirts, took a few pictures. Then they headed back to the tour bus. Patrick didn't look at Pete, _not once_. 

Pete knows this because he didn't take his eyes off of Patrick, _not once_.

Tonight, their hired bus driver was back, so all four of the guys were in the lounge together. They played a few video games, sat around and talked for a while, the usual. Andy got up to go to bed, and Joe followed shortly after.

"Don't get too wild, you two." Joe muttered at Pete and Patrick, laughing at himself. Pete glared in his direction and then stood up.

"Where are you going?" Patrick asked flatly, not even looking at Pete.

"Bed." Pete answered.

"The fuck you are." Patrick rolled his eyes.

"...what..?" Pete asked.

"Sit back down. We need to talk." Patrick said calmly.

Oh fuck. Fuck. Shit. Fuck, Pete groaned internally.

He hesitantly sat back down onto the futon across from Patrick. He looked at the floor until he could feel Patrick's eyes on him. He met Patrick's eyes with his own, and he died on the inside. Patrick looked so disappointed. Pete couldn't blame him.

"Why did you do it?" Patrick asked, seemingly incredulous.

"Do what?"

"Why did you do that, on stage?"

"...tickle you?"

"Well, yeah. That, I guess...But the kissing and touching. All of it...why?"

"I think you know why, Patrick."

"Tell me, though."

"Why? What purpose does it serve?"

"Just...say it."

"Are you trying to make fun of me?"

"No, I just-" Patrick tried reassuring Pete, but he was interrupted.

"Then why do I have to say it?"

"Maybe you don't."

There was a long pause.

"What do you mean?"

"..forget it."

"No. Tell me what you meant."

"Never mind. It was-"

"Can I just show you..maybe?"

"I...what?.." Patrick muttered.

Pete moved from the futon to close to Patrick on the love seat. Like super close.

"What are you doing?" Patrick whispered as Pete started to move in closer.

"I'm trying to be suave. Maybe don't kill my mojo?" Pete smiled. Patrick giggled a little.

But then Pete's lips were on his.

At first, Patrick didn't kiss back. Just as Pete was about to retreat and apologize, Patrick put an arm around Pete's neck and moved his lips, starting a rhythm. Pete smiled into the kiss, as did Patrick. Pete's chest felt like it was full of thunder, and his stomach had the lightning. He felt like his whole body was on fire. He was sort of nervous, but mostly just really happy.

Pete moved back, hardly even an inch, and said:

"Is this what you meant? Maybe I don't have to say it..?"

"Spot on." Patrick laughed softly. "Hearing it _would_ be nice, though."

"Oh really?" Pete smirked. Patrick nodded.

"Patrick Stump, I think I love you."

"Cool," Patrick laughed and scrunched up his nose. It was the most adorable thing Pete had ever seen in his entire fucking life.

Pete leaned back in to kiss Patrick, but Patrick put a hand on each side of his face, stopping him.

"Pete..?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm gonna kill you for tickling me onstage," Patrick tried not to smile, but failed miserably.

"Do it. I dare you." Pete said in a mocking tone. Patrick smushed Pete's cheeks together, making him have stupid kissy lips.

Patrick moved in so he could kiss those stupid kissy lips.

"That doesn't feel much like you killing me. At least not in the way you meant to." Pete smirked.

"Be quiet, asshole." Patrick hummed happily, kissing Pete again. And again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So...that's it! I would really appreciate feedback. Thanks for reading! :D


End file.
